Boys don't cry3 years later
by superpencil2000
Summary: 3 years since Dante's life changed beyond recognition: 3 years since Emma arrived. Everything's going uphill - but then disaster strikes.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

It'd been nearly three years since Emma entered my life – 3 years since my life changed beyond recognition. Emma was rapidly approaching school age. I honestly never thought I'd say this, but I was going to miss looking after her all day, and the constant stream of energy she brought with her.

In general, things were looking up. Adam had gone back to school at the start of year 12 and I was on an evening course at the Open University studying microbiology; which wasn't my initial plan but it was working out great. I already had a job in the local Tesco which, though it didn't exactly pay goldmines, was sustaining me just fine. Sustaining _us_.

" Daddy!" came Emma's voice from the kitchen.  
"Coming, Emma!" I replied.  
"Quickly!" she stressed petulantly.  
I entered the kitchen.  
"Look," she cried excitedly, pointing out of the window "look!"  
I looked out of the window expectantly. I couldn't see anything: well nothing of any significance. Just a young woman; with short, dark brown hair, wearing a brilliant white T-shirt, heels and a pair of studded jeggings. True, she looked stunning, but apart from that, I didn't see why Emma would be taking the trouble to sit on the desktop staring at a stranger on the street.

She turned around, and looked through our window. No, she didn't just look, she stared, right at me, like she knew me. Not that I normally take kindly to people staring at me like that, but there was something about this particular woman that made me intrigued. I squinted at her face. No doubt about it, I'd seen that face before. The question was: where? She turned and carried on down the street, before disappearing into a porch: our porch. The doorbell rang. And then it hit me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Melanie. My mind was racing, my heart pumping like I'd just run a mile at 100m pace. Should I open the door? I had to. I had to talk to her. So I crept down the narrow passage, towards the door and yanked the handle towards me.

" What do you want?!" As if I didn't know.  
"I want, I want…what I want is-" Melanie hesitated.  
"Hmm…" I challenged.  
" My daughter. I want my daughter back."

I'd known it was coming, but once the words were said out loud, all hell broke loose in my mind. "You want her back?" I practically exploded. " You want her back? You don't deserve her and you're not going to get her. No way! No way are you taking Emma away from me now, not after everything you've done! Emma's not a library book, and I'm not a library. You can't just dump Emma on me when you get bored of her, then collect her when you feel like it!"

Melanie was on the verge of tears. " But she's my daughter." she hollered.  
" She's mine too. More so mine than yours. At least I love her." I wasn't going to let this show of emotion from Melanie get to me. But then she burst into tears. I opened the door wider. I couldn't take it anymore.

" I think you'd better come in."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

I waited a while: until Melanie, as well as me and Emma (who was bawling her head off by this point) had calmed down a bit. Though now was not the ideal calming situation.

"Why now?" I asked Melanie, pulling myself together.  
" I can look after Emma better now – better than I could before."  
" What makes you say that? Last time I spoke to you, you told me you 'couldn't cope'. What's changed?"  
" Dante, you're not gonna believe this but… I got lucky. I won the lottery – euromillions."

Melanie. Won euromillions. Oh. My. God. Out of all the things I expected to come out of her mouth, I certainly didn't expect that. I suppose it explained the clothes though.

My mouth gaping with shock, I asked the killer question: "How much?"  
" Sixty-three million."

First I was hit with a wave of shock, closely followed by joy, owing to the vague notion that maybe she'd agree to share the dosh. But then, in quick succession came two, much more sinister emotions. Jealousy. Then hate.

Melanie didn't deserve this ."Out." I commanded, rage bubbling inside me.  
" But-" came Melanie's shocked voice.  
" Get out!"  
" I can give her a better chance in life!"  
"Money isn't all that matters."  
"Dante, I know that isn't how it should be, but right now, it is. As much as you hate to admit it, I'm in the best position to look after Emma right now."  
She stepped out of the front door, into the cold air. As soon as she was out, I slammed the door in her face.  
" I'm sorry Dante." She mouthed through the window; I didn't know why.

But I forgave her, just like that. AS IF.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Tuesday 7th September. Emma's first day at school. It had taken me ages to fill out the forms required to get her into the school I wanted her to go to. We got our third choice school: not ideal, but it could've been worse. Parkfield Primary it was called - I thought that was the most boring name in the world; there were at least a million other schools with the same name – but Emma loved it and was wearing her new (and very expensive) uniform with pride .

"Come on Emma!" I encouraged as she dawdled slowly down the road. I looked at my watch. Shoot.

"Hurry up, we're gonna be late!" I told her in a more urgent tone.

"Run!" She didn't seem to be getting the message. I sprinted down the road to show her what I was talking about. Sure enough, she followed suit. We sprinted to school.

Finally, out of breath, but just in time, we puffed through the school gates. There was a short, smartly dressed man at the gate repeating "All new students, please head to the front office." over and over again. So we made our way to the front office. No other new students were there: sensibly, their parents had decided to bring them into school early.

"Hello," said a woman at the desk. "can I help you?"

"Umm, yes." I replied, trying to sound confident. "My daughter's starting in reception today."

"Splendid. What's your name sweetheart?" she asked, looking expectantly at Emma. Emma didn't answer; she wasn't particularly fond of talking to new people.

"Her name's Emma." I answered for her.

"Surname?"

I hesitated. "Dyson."

"Mother's name?"

"Errr….I can give you my name. I'm her father."

"I'll take your name, but I'm afraid I will have to take her mother's name too."

The receptionist was glaring at me by now and her sweet tone was faltering. I decided I should hurry up before I fell permanently into disrepute with this woman. "Melanie Dyson." I told her.

She made a note of it in her big green folder. "Take the first corridor on your left. You'll see a yellow door with Miss Kasey written on it. That's Emma's class: yellow class. "

I thanked her.

"Have fun!" she said to Emma unenthusiastically. From the tone of her voice you would have thought she was saying "Hope you burn in hell!"

Brilliant. I'd made an enemy already.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

2:45: the end of the school day. I'd been on edge ever since I'd dropped Emma off, expecting a teacher to phone at any minute bearing bad news. I don't know why I was so worried – it's not like I hadn't left Emma with other people before. I'd left her with Dad before, and Adam. I guess it was the idea of leaving her in the care of strangers which accelerated my heart rate. But the whole day had passed without incident and I was completely relieved.

I arrived at the school with a smile and navigated my way to the massive hall where the children were collected from. I was a few minutes late, but punctuality didn't seem too important because there were still hundreds of children sitting on the wooden floor playing clapping games or chattering away.

I found Miss Kasey among the rabble.

"Hi!" I said to her, "I've come to pick up my daughter, Emma."

Miss Kasey slowly pored down the class register with her ringed index finger. She frowned. My smile faltered.  
"What's wrong?" I demanded, every hint of politeness leaving my voice.

"Emma's name is crossed out. She's already left-"

"There must be some mistake! Who did she go with?" I interrupted.

"Let me see…" Miss Kasey's finger travelled to a column next to Emma's name, titled 'name of adult who child left with' , but my eyes got there first….

And then I panicked.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Melanie Dyson. That's what it said.

Melanie.

How could she have done this to me: to Emma? How did she even know what school Emma was going to? Had Mel been spying on us? And then there were _my_ stupid mistakes: why did I give the school Melanie's name in the first place? Why didn't I just give them any old name? It was obvious this was going to happen.

I should have known.

I tried to imagine Emma, kicking and wailing, as Melanie, the wicked witch, dragged her away. But really, I knew that wasn't the true picture: the school would have immediately suspected something if Emma had reacted like that. It didn't take me long to realise that Emma must have left obligingly with Melanie, happy and smiling, forgetting about me, her dad, who'd given up everything for her.

And that thought hurt.

It hurt so much.

But boys don't cry.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

By now every single kid in the hall was staring at us. I didn't care though. I had to get my daughter back. I frantically searched my pockets for my phone. It wasn't there. For crying out loud – I must have left it at home.

"Do you have a phone that I can borrow?" I asked Miss Kasey in as calm a voice as I could muster.  
" Of course – here." she said, reaching in her jacket pocket and handing me her slick black phone. Normally I'd take an interest in what make it was, but right now that paled into insignificance.

9-9-9. I punched each number in with aggression then held it to my ear, jigging from foot to foot as I waited impatiently for the voice on the end of the line. After a few seconds, they picked up.

"Hello," it said in deep monotone "Press 1 for Police, 2 for fire brigade or 3 for ambulance". I pressed one. Now an actual human was on the line-a young woman with a squeaky voice.

"How can we provide assistance?" she said.

"My daughter's been kidnapped." I told her.

"Age?"

" What, her's or mine?" I asked with agitation – this was wasting time already.

" Your daughter." She said as if I was stupid.

I was getting really annoyed now but this wasn't the time to argue."4" I told her.

" Where did she go missing?"

"At school."

"What?"

"Somebody else picked her up from school!".

" How did they do that – did she know them?"

" ummm…yes" I replied hesitantly.

" Were they related?"

"…yeah"

"How?"

" She was her mum."

"What, her mum picked her up from school?"

"Yes."

" So what's the problem then – is her mum abusive: does she have any criminal records?"

"No… I don't think so, but she shouldn't be with her, she should be with me! I'm the one who brought her up."

"Err..We don't deal with family issues. We can't help you –you're wasting our time. Goodbye."

" But how-"

"GOODBYE." she all but shouted. Then she hung up.

Shoot.


End file.
